


Sight Line

by DisorientedOwl



Category: Bird Box (2018)
Genre: Mental Health Issues, Multi, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 06:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17483150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisorientedOwl/pseuds/DisorientedOwl
Summary: I personally did not like this movie. I did not like how triggering it was nor its ambiguity about mental illness.If you felt the same way I mean, give this a read why not. I wrote it more for myself than anything.





	Sight Line

     I believe that if there is a God, or god I suppose, he has a funny sense a humor. Not funny 'ha-ha' I mean he's probably the worst possible being in the whole universe. A real dickwad who has to explain his jokes to a congregation that never asked. If it isn't some higher power it means evolution is a joke of a process.

 

      I've always sort've been a self-sacrificing person, you don't work in retail without giving up some part of yourself. I worked local deliveries for Amazon partners. My route was in a quiet suburban neighborhood outside of the fringes of a city sprawl. A meandering, polluted creek ran alongside the winding uphill road I took to deliver an assortment of goods from Hello Fresh boxes to mail-order bike tires. It was on one of these routes where I first encountered the trouble.

 

     I first saw a Creature as it stalked with strange intent towards a mother and child. The creatures are hard to describe to those who haven't seen them. The closest description I could manage was that they look like inkblots, open to interpretation. I'm pretty sure if the others could explain them to me without trying to kill me first, they would describe them differently. But they do have a form, an almost humanoid look about them. But stretched and squashed out like shadows thrown to the wind. They looked surreal and definitely like they didn't belong anywhere near the quiet suburban neighborhood I was in. Or near the woman who was listening to music and she walked with her stroller. I remember thinking later it was odd that a suicidal ideation flashed in my head right at that point. That my brain chose that time to suggest I walk into traffic or maybe slam my head against a nearby telephone pole. But I didn't think anything of it because those sort of 'creatures' were always present in my head. Especially since the woman looked at the strange shifting inkblot and then proceeded to follow through on my ideas. 

 

     I don't know if I screamed or if something else happened but I knew I didn't want to be around anymore. Chaos shattered the cute little neighborhood as persons inbound from the city began running into fire hydrants or telephone poles. Those who managed to make it to their home were being followed by screaming people, trying their best to cover their eyes. The ground became littered with people running, falling, screaming. I had never seen such a shift in serenity in my life. I decided to run. The creature had seemingly disappeared. 

 

     I found myself dragged along with the flow of people to a home. A woman took me by the arm and told me to follow her, so I did. I think I was still reeling from seeing the someone hurt themselves like that.  The home wasn't one on my route. It had a pool and nice backyard view of a hillside. There was noise as more people scrambled inside to find safety. People were arguing at first but I was too shook up to care. I also had a strange nagging feeling inside me that it was the end of times and no one would mind if I politely drown myself in the backyard pool. I remember scolding myself about how much it would inconvenience them and trouble everyone. I luckily carried my pills around with me, as I was in the habit of forgetting to take them so pill bottles were hid around my house, purse, and delivery van.

      Stephan was the father of the household. Some would say he was strong, dependable, welcoming, doing his best to wrangle a whole new family of strangers that took him up on the hospitality of his home. I don't know how to describe him now. He was deceptively kind and understanding despite the limited resources and time at hand. He had a perfect nuclear family of a wife and two kids. 

     "We're having a family meeting," Stephan said to welcome me a few hours later, "To watch TV and discuss our options."

     I didn't know why but I thought we were going to watch a lighthearted television show to combat the things we had just saw. Instead we watched a news bulletin informing us of precautions to take and reassuring us that the army would soon have everything under control. So, we covered the windows with paper, blankets, blinds and anything else we could find. More arguing happened and at that point I decided that children were far more fun in an apocalypse than adults. The eldest was named Benson, a precocious little four year old with mischievous streak who promptly told me that the 'booger-man' had finally come out from under his bed to kill everyone. The younger was a shy girl, probably two, named Rebecca. Once we got that formality out of the way we began playing with his grand assortment of toys. 

    It was still difficult not to listen to what the adults in the room were saying. There wasn't enough food to last the amount of us forever, when would the power go out? How would we know when it was safe to go outside? No one's phone worked, even those with reception. My phone was still in the truck two streets over so I couldn't even try.

     "We need to eat all the perishable food first," I thought his name was Frank? Or perhaps not, "Then we can ration out the non-perishable food. Then we need to gather supplies."

     "How are we going to gather supplies if we can't go outside and we can't see anything?" Another one snapped.

     I remember thinking then and there that I wasn't going to eat, that I would rather starve myself than take food from the people who let me into their home. My life wasn't worth theirs and I would do my best to help but in the end I would rather die than put children or the others at risk. I've thought this way for so long that I didn't think anything of it. It was just my voice, telling me I was worthless, that I was better off dead and that these people didn't need me. It was a running dialogue I'd had since I was eight years old. Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. With all the shock and destruction it was no wonder that I was feeling this way. I took deep breaths, did my five senses to ground me, and reaffirmed that I would be beneficial to everyone, I just needed to work hard and be kind. Even during these hard times I could survive even for just a little longer. 

     The other adults made most of the decisions, I think because I interacted with the children and looked rather young they assumed my input wasn't needed. Including me there were eight adults. Eight adults and two children, five males and three females. Luckily in a rich white suburban neighborhood so the cupboards were well stocked, but for the bougie this wasn't enough food to last us forever. Even though the twenty four pack of Clif bars in the pantry could last me all month. So, I stayed away from them. I slept in a sleeping bag in the kids room, the mother repeating how grateful she was to have me. It hurts to remember her now. Stephan didn't seem to have time to thank me, as he addressed most of the sensitive male issues in the household well into the evening. 

     Benson didn't think to ask my name until we were drifting off to sleep, his nightlight throwing stars in the room as I listened to the noises outside. I had told him it was just the wind and he believed me.

      "Chloe," I told him, "Chloe is my name. But we should have code names to call each other so call me Chloe-bear."

     I would regret that. I regretted much in my time at that household, learning exactly who I was and what I was capable of. I regretted Stephan and Frank and the wife I refuse to name because it's so hard to remember that she was Leslie and I failed her. But one thing I regretted the most was the code words, because of who lost their life over it. 


End file.
